


Time Is Running Out

by Mathmagician



Series: Soulmate AU's [3]
Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Baz Is Missing, Baz is still kidnapped, Dorks in Love, Enemies to Lovers, Front seat is for people who haven't been kidnapped by fucking numpties, M/M, Saving Basilton Pitch, Simon is Worried but Won't admit it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-20 19:01:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14900180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mathmagician/pseuds/Mathmagician
Summary: Canon Divergence and Soulmate AU where you have a timer on your forearm that counts down to the moment in which your soulmate will die. Everyone has one of them, except for Simon, who has two."It didn’t take me long to figure out I was his soulmate.I think that was what made me hate him so much at first. Not the fact that he was a mess; not the fact that he was barely able to control his magic; not the fact that he was the Mage’s heir and I was supposed to hate him. Before all of that, I hated him because I was his soulmate."





	1. Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [guardiansofthefantasy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/guardiansofthefantasy/gifts).



> To guardiansofthefantasy (Mo), because of your endless patience for my random conversations about life in general and because I know you love soulmate AU's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am back lovelies!
> 
> I know it took me an awful lot of time between last story and this one, but I had an unfortunate writer's block I couldn't seem to get rid of.  
> Yet, I was able to come up with this soulmate's AU (I always gravitate back to these) and here you have it.
> 
> As usual, before we start, I do not own any of these amazing characters nor the locations and the general idea. It all belongs to our amazing saviour Rainbow Rowell who recently announced the sequel that will save my poor little heart in 2020.  
> Also, the story is named after a song called Time is Running out by Muse (which my brother has been listening on repeat these days, providing me with a convenient title.)  
> And the title of the chapter comes from the first line of the song Time by Pink Floyd!
> 
> Now on to the story! Enjoy!

**_BAZ:_ **

 

It didn’t take me long to figure out I was his soulmate.

I think that was what made me hate him so much at first. Not the fact that he was a mess; not the fact that he was barely able to control his magic; not even the fact that he was the Mage’s Heir and I was supposed to hate him. Before all of that, I hated him because I was his soulmate. And he was a _boy_. Even then, part of me wanted my soulmate to be a boy – the same part that had already come to terms with my tendency to find boys more interesting than girls. But I was eleven years old when I met him. And at eleven, the most demanding part of me was still trying to deny the truth.

 And I hated him for it. I hated him for showing me how I was, in fact, destined to be with a boy. I hated him for giving me yet another reason to disappoint my father. And I spent years trying to prove to myself that I was wrong. Trying to convince myself that maybe his soulmate was another vampire. Or that maybe I had a different soulmate. Maybe he was one of the rare cases of people with an unrequited soulmate.

Deep down, however, I knew from the start it had to be me. As I shook his hand, that first day when the Crucible drew us together, and saw his timers, I knew it had to be me. He had two timers in his right forearm. One already frozen, having stopped six years before, at around 9 pm on the 12th of August. The day my mother died. The day I was turned. The other one was set in over 80 years. So he had two timers: one frozen on the day I died the first time. The other, set to the day I would die the second time. The day I would die for good.

Having two timers is entirely unheard of. There are no records of it ever happening in the magickal world before Simon Snow. I, however, know that he is not the first person who has two of them. And that is why I know what they mean.

My aunt Fiona also has them – the two timers. When she was young, she never understood why. She used to hide them behind long sleeves or heavy make-up, only letting the timer that was set to the most distant future show. She just figured out what it meant to have two of them when Nicodemus, her boyfriend and soulmate, decided to cross-over and become a vampire. The moment he did so, her first timer stopped. And then, she understood. She had two timers because her soulmate would die twice.

When I was turned, she told me. She told me I would know who my soulmate was from day one, because she would have two timers. And Fiona was right about everything, except the fact that my soulmate wasn’t a she.

So, that’s why I knew I had to be his soulmate. And despite knowing he was probably mine too, I tried to deny it at first.

I spent my first years trying to put him in danger, trying to find out ways to mess with my timer, trying to confirm my suspicions that he was, in fact, my soulmate.

He thinks I tried to kill him countless times – by drinking his blood, by pushing him down the stairs, by trying to feed him to a chimaera. But I didn’t want to _actually kill_ him. I wanted to _almost_ kill him. I wanted him to be in a situation in which he would be _almost_ dead so that I could check my timer. If he was indeed my soulmate, my timer would shift if he was in actual danger, since it counted down to the moment in which he would die. So, that’s what I spent my first years at Watford doing – putting him in danger. I wanted to see if the timer changed. I wanted to be sure he was my soulmate, just like I was his.

But it didn’t work the way I wanted it too. I never really meant to kill him, so he was never about to die. I was never really going to bite him, I was never going to push him from high enough, I was never going to let the chimaera really get to him. He was never in real danger, so I never really knew. For a long time, I never really knew even though, deep down, I did. Deep down, I knew it had to be him.

And when I fell in love with him, I knew it had nothing to do with us being soulmates. I loved him for who he was. For the way he protected everyone in his life. For the way he was so careless with himself while being so careful with the world. For his complete lack of self-preservation, but his endless care for everyone else’s safety. For his ultimate selflessness and concern for everyone. Even me. The one he should hate. The one who tried to kill him countless times – even though I never really did.

His sworn enemy. His evil vampire roommate.

His soulmate. Although he will never know that.

 

**_SIMON:_ **

 

I always knew I was different. Growing up, I realised straight away I wasn’t _at all_ like any of the kids from the orphanage. I always had a hard time socialising with other people – more so than the rest of the traumatised children I lived with. I was avoided by everyone that surrounded me as if I was dangerous – which I now understand that I was. I was always looked at as if I was crazy – which I now see I could be perceived as.

When the Mage rescued me and made me his heir, I thought I was finally going to move to a place where I wouldn’t be abnormal anymore. A place filled with people like me that would allow me to become just another person in the crowd.

I was wrong. Even here – among mages and magickal creatures – I am different. I am the most powerful mage alive, but the only one unable to control my powers. I can turn a whole room into ashes if only I don’t stop myself in time. My magick pours and fills a room within seconds if only you push the right buttons – and Baz, my roommate, knows just how to do that. And, above all of that, I happen to be the only mage I know with two soulmate timers.

I never knew what the timers meant before I came here. I realised, sooner than I learnt how to speak, that other people didn’t have them. Among all the kids I’ve lived with throughout my 10 years spent at homes, I was the only one who had the timers. I also understood soon enough that other people couldn’t see them, so I never asked about it to anyone.

When the Mage came, though, one of the first things I noticed was that he also had a timer – although it was just one, unlike me – in his forearm. His, however, was no longer counting down. It was frozen at a specific time – just like one of mine was. And I wanted to ask him about the timers. However, with him telling me all about magick and the world he was bringing me to, I forgot it.

The day I came to Watford, I was mesmerised. I was high on other people’s magick, overwhelmed with the greatness of it all. For the first time in my life, I almost felt like I could belong. For a few moments, I actually did. And then, they all noticed me.

I was the first mage coming from the Normal world, and I was a freak. They all knew, even before I did, about the prophecy I was apparently there to fulfil. And when I walked into Watford, that’s all they saw. Not the little and scared kid who thought that he had finally found a place to call home. Not the messy boy who never understood what made him so different from everyone else until then. Not Simon Snow, a person just like any other. All they saw, was the Chosen One. And the Chosen One was a rarity.

That day, only two kids treated me as if I wasn’t this huge deal everyone else seemed to see – Penny, who almost instantly became my best friend; and Baz, who almost instantly became my mortal enemy.

Things haven’t changed that much since that first day. Although people don’t treat me as much as a celebrity as they did back then – especially after they all realised how poorly I control my ever-overflowing magick – there are still only two people who treat me as if I was just another one in the crowd. The same two people who did from the beginning.

Despite everything that Penny and I have already gone through because of my condition as the Chosen One, she always tells me she just sees Simon when she looks at me. Her best friend. Her incredibly clumsy and messy best friend, who happens to have a lot more magick than anyone else, and who happens to attract an incredible amount of danger for some reason.

It was Penny who finally told me what the timers meant, a few months after we first came to Watford. One dinner, when I mentioned that I had never seen anyone else who had them before coming here.

“Oh, the soulmate timers?” She had asked.

“They’re soulmate timers?” I had questioned, relieved that it was not abnormal here, and curious about their meaning.

“Yes. Only magickal people have it, although sometimes I wish we didn’t.” She had replied.

“What do they mean?” I had asked, since she hadn’t seemed like she was going to elaborate.

“You don’t know?” She had seemed visibly surprised. “I sometimes forget you were raised with Normals. The soulmate timers are a weird thing. They are supposed to count down to the moment your soulmate dies.” She had explained. “They were created by a mage who was tired of always worrying about his wife who had a tendency to get into trouble. But the spell was so powerful it spread throughout the whole magickal community. Since then, every magickal child is born with them.”

“That is quite dark. And sad, too. Also, quite confusing. How do you figure out who your soulmate is?” I had asked her.

“Mostly, you don’t.” She had said, “Not until something happens that puts their lives in danger. Or if they actually die. At first, people used to try to pretend they were going to kill themselves to make sure, but it didn’t work. It only works if you’re _actually_ about to die. My mom found out my dad was her soulmate because he was almost hit by a bus while crossing the road. She saw the timer switch to 20 seconds out of the blue and, thankfully, she was able to push him out of the way. They had already been married for 10 years when it happened.”

“That’s so lucky!”

“Not really.” She had told me. “People usually find out they end up marrying or dating their soulmates anyway. There is something stronger than the timers pulling you towards the one you're supposed to spend your life with. The timers happen to be just a confirmation.”

“What happens when your soulmate dies?” I had asked.

“When the timer reaches zero, it switches to the day, and the moment, your soulmate died. It’s incredibly unfortunate for the last one to die. You have to spend the rest of your days with the worst moment of your life imprinted on your arm.” Penny had said. That explained my first timer, but it didn’t explain why I had two of them, so I had asked her.

“What does it mean when you have two timers?”

“Nobody has two timers, as far as I know.” She had replied quickly. Only when she had seen my face did she realise why I had asked.

Since that day, almost 8 years ago, Penny had made her ultimate goal to figure out what the two timers meant. So far, she hasn’t found any record of it happening to anyone before. No matter how deep she looked, there was no evidence of someone ever having multiple timers. And I mostly didn’t care, because I truly believed I would find my soulmate someday, anyway. That day, I would finally understand what the timers meant and why one of them had stopped as if they were already dead. It was never a worrying factor for me, knowing how soulmates were pulled towards each other either way, regardless of figuring out about it before or only confirming it after.

Today, however, my unconcern for who my soulmate might be disappeared entirely.

Today, my remaining timer shifted.

And from what it tells me, my soulmate will be dead in less than a month.    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I am sorry I was absent for so long and I hope this is not a disappointing come back. I might be a little bit out of touch, but I'm working my way out of this stupid block.
> 
> Feel free to leave suggestions, comments, corrections or just your lovely opinion. You know I love your comments.
> 
> I promise I will try not to take too long to post the next chapter, but it's exam season so I can't promise daily updates.
> 
> Have a wonderful day, my lovelies!


	2. Dream on and sleep won't save you from the night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my lovelies!
> 
> Here you have a very new and very uneventful chapter! I promise eventful things are coming, but I needed a little bit of context before jumping in. 
> 
> This chapter's title comes from a song called "Keep in the dark" by Temples.
> 
> Enjoy!

 

**_BAZ:_ **

 

I can’t really tell how long it’s been. It’s too dark in here. And, although they feed me blood once a day, I’m too far gone to remember how many times they’ve done it. Everything is a blur since the moment they locked me inside this coffin. I can no longer understand when I’m awake and when I’m dreaming. Everything I can see – everything I can think of – is Simon Snow. I know I am delusional but, sometimes, I swear I can feel his magick invade my body.

When it happens, I always forget I am about to die.

I wonder if he noticed yet. I figure he did, considering he always checks his timer every day – most people do, to make sure their soulmate made it through the night. But I wonder if he has put the pieces together yet. Probably not. He probably didn’t even realise I am gone. Or rather, he probably thinks I am off plotting to murder him, instead of nearly dying myself.

I wish he knew, though. Maybe if he did, he would come and find me like the bloody hero he is. Like the selfless bastard he is, he would come and save me even though he thinks I am his worst enemy.

I wish he knew. Maybe if he did, I wouldn’t be so stubborn, and I would die already. But this is not how I am supposed to go. I don’t want to die in here, inside this bloody coffin and surrounded by fucking numpties – numpties, of all creatures!

I was supposed to die at the hands of my soulmate. He was supposed to kill me, realising who I was just as he pierced me with his sword. He was supposed to hold me as I died, and I was supposed to tell him how I have always loved him. His blue eyes, his bronze curls, his constellations of freckles and moles. They were supposed to be the last things I saw before I finally went. Not this darkness.

I think I will still have that, though. I think he will still be what I will see when I die. He is all I’ve seen since I was locked in here. He is all I can think about when I am feeling myself drifting too far. I’ve relived all our moments together countless times these past days.

Or weeks.

Or months.

I’m not sure anymore. All I know is that he is all I think about. Simon Snow, the Mage’s heir. Simon Snow, the worst Chosen One that’s ever been chosen. Simon Snow, the love of my fucking life. Simon Snow, my soulmate.

I’ve thought of the moment I finally figured it out a lot since I’ve been in here. It was during our fifth year – that awful year Simon when decided his ultimate goal was to prove that I was a vampire. That year, he was _always_ there. He followed _everywhere_ , always trying to keep tabs on me.

He tried to catch me plotting endless times during that year – which he never really did, considering I hadn’t been plotting at all since our third year. Anywhere I turned to, he was there watching me. As much as I enjoyed his undevoted attention that year, I wasn’t going to let it fool me. Despite wanting that said attention to mean something, I knew it didn’t. All he wanted was to prove that I was a vampire, not snog me senselessly as I wish he did.

It was particularly challenging to feed during that time. I always had to wait for him to fall asleep and then sneak out of our room. Luckily, I was usually too hungry to fall asleep before he did. Otherwise, it might have been problematic.

The night it happened, he had taken longer than usual to fall asleep. I could see him staring at me in the dark and, even when I was facing the other way, I could feel his lingering gaze on me. When his breath eventually steadied and I tried to sneak out, I was so exhausted I bumped into my nightstand. Which probably woke him up. Yet, I thought I had a fair head start and decided to head out anyway. It was a mistake. Halfway to the catacombs, I realised he was following me. Despite having known he would, I was still surprised he actually did get up and followed me in the middle of the night into the creepiest place on Watford. However, I decided to keep going because I was sure he wouldn’t be able to find me. There were too many turns and too many corridors in the catacombs, and his senses were in no way as sharp as mine.

As I was draining my fifth rat, there was something in my forearm that caught my attention. I can still feel the panic that stroke my whole body as I realised the timer had shifted. It was counting down to two minutes, and Snow was nowhere to be seen. I almost lost it, but then the scent of his magick filled the air. I knew he had to be close. All I had to do was follow it.

I did, and I fond Snow in a random chamber facing a chimaera. To this day, I still don’t know how it got there, despite Snow being so sure it was me who planted it.

Snow was holding his sword high, trying to distract the chimaera and find a way out of that room. And as my timer kept counting down, I was sure that thing was about to attack Simon before he had a chance to go off and save himself, so I had to provide some sort of distraction. That’s when I lit a fire in my palm and threw it at the chimaera. It was enough to catch its attention, but now I had the problem. Now it was trying to eat me.

The next thing I now Snow had gone off and the chimaera was gone. At the last minute, though, and for some reason I can’t, to this day, comprehend, he shielded me before losing it. That being the only reason I didn’t turn into ashes while trying to save him.

Nevertheless, that didn’t stop Snow from accusing me of trying to feed him to a chimaera once again from that day on, adding it to the list of ways I tried to kill him throughout the years. A list that already included trying to feed him to a chimaera in the third year. This time, however,  it was not the truth. That day, I tried to save him. That day, I almost got myself killed because of him. Because I love him. Because he is my soulmate.

Because it had to be him. Because it had been him all along.

 

**_PENNY_ **

****

Simon’s soulmate timers always intrigued me. Anything out of the ordinary usually does, and that was, for me, the most out of the ordinary thing in him. Although, if I do have to admit, there is nothing truly ordinary about my best friend.

But from all the odd things in Simon’s life – from all those things in him no one seems to be able to explain –  this was the one I thought I could figure out. It seemed so simple compared to all of the mysteries in his life. I was almost sure there had to be someone else with more than one timer. Conceptually speaking, even, it made sense that people could have more than one soulmate.

Despite my exhaustive search for such evidence, however, I’d never found anything truly relevant. And I wasn’t planning on giving up on it but, lately, some more urgent matters had come along, and my research for the meaning of Simon’s timers had slowed down significantly. 

When I got to Watford early on September, however, figuring out the timers was suddenly mandatory. I found Simon already here when I arrived, and he was freaking out about his remaining timer shifting. His soulmate was going to die in less than a month, and he didn’t have a single clue as to who they might be.

Suddenly, we were on a mission once again. We spent the week before classes started nearly camping in the library. We reread every book ever written about soulmates. We searched through every shady publication – even the published studies that were eventually proved wrong. We looked into everything we could think of. We basically redid in a week my work of eight years in hopes of finding something – anything – that could explain the two timers. Something that could give us _the_ clue we needed to find his soulmate. To _save_ his soulmate.

We weren’t any luckier than I had been throughout the years. Simon was anything but ordinary, even when it came to his soulmate. From what I had gathered, he really seemed to be the first person in the history of the magickal world to have two soulmate timers. And we had to figure out what they meant all by ourselves if we wanted to save his soulmate.

At first, I decided to forget about the two timers and just think of what could have happened to make his soulmate suddenly be about to die. The fact that his timer shifted once in a while – increasing the countdown time slightly – didn’t really help. There were several scenarios that I had thought of. His soulmate could be terminally ill and about to die – the slight shifts happening when they were put on some medication. His soulmate could have been in an accident and, again, about to die – once again, the slight shifts happening when they were put on some medication. His soulmate could have been suicidal – the shifts occurring when they second doubted themselves.

In every one of the scenarios I created, his soulmate was about to die, and there was very little we could do about it. And still no way of figuring out who they were and what the other timer meant.

When classes began and Basilton failed to show up, however, other scenario started forming in my head. I almost failed to make the connection at first. The idea that he could even be considered an alternative seemed so impossible I almost missed it. But then, as the days went on and there were still no signs of him, I started to wonder.

He could be in danger – in fact, it was the most plausible reason for him to be missing the first weeks of school. I don’t see him failing to show up by choice and leaving the position as top of the class for me without putting up a fight. And if he was in danger, that could very well be the reason for the shift in Simon’s timer. And if he was, indeed, Simon’s soulmate, there might be an explanation for the second timer. At least, if he is, in fact, a vampire as Simon had always said.

I wasn’t sure of this prediction of mine, however. And I wasn’t sure if I should tell Simon about this new scenario. I wasn’t sure how he would take it – me suggesting that his soulmate could be his worst enemy.

However, when Baz’s aunt Fiona came into the Mummer’s House – where I had been spending the nights since school started and Baz failed to show up – demanding to know what Simon had done to her nephew, I was suddenly very sure. Baz was, after all missing. And from the way she just barged into the room looking ready to kill anyone or anything that got on her way, he must have been in danger. Then, when her eyes shifted to Simon’s forearm, and her maniac laughter filled up the room, I knew she must have known something about it.

And that’s when I saw her timers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here you have it!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it despite not much happening yet. I promise I'll post a more eventful chapter soon!
> 
> Thank you so so much to everyone who has come back to read this new story and who took the time to leave me kudos and comments, it really means a lot to me. You guys are awesome!
> 
> EDIT (because I forgot yesterday) : so basically I have two chimaeras in this story because of this tumblr post I saw the other day: https://airenyah.tumblr.com/post/174308498804/so-at-the-beginning-of-chapter-34-on-page-179-baz  
> So for those of you who could be wondering, there is one in the third year (when Baz was still trying to almost kill Simon to figure out if he was the soulmate) and this one in the fifth year when Baz saves Simon!
> 
> Have an incredible day, lovely people!


	3. Our love is six feet under

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely people!
> 
> Here's a very new chapter for you whose title comes from the song "Six feet under" by Billie Eilish.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!

**_FIONA:_ **

****

I couldn’t care less if Davy found me and tried to fight me away. I couldn’t care less who saw me or what would happen if someone tried to stop me from reaching his room. I couldn’t care less if the fucking Chosen One summoned his sword and tried to kill me with it when I walked into the room. All I care about is finding Baz. And I need to know if the Chosen One knows anything about it like I fear he might.

I barge into their room to find the Bunce kid sleeping on my nephew’s bed. I should be outraged by that, but it seems so meaningless in the middle of everything that was happening right now. Both of them wake up to the sound of my doc martens furiously stepping on the floor. Yet, the Chosen One doesn’t have the time to process what is happening before I grab him by the shoulders and push him against his bedframe.

“What have you done to Basilton?” I growl, using my most threatening glare. Mitali Bunce’s daughter is pointing her ring at me, but I don’t care. All I care about is my nephew.

“I – I didn’t do anything.” The Chosen One chokes out. I push him harder against the frame.

“ _Where is Basilton_?” I ask, once again, trying to read him. He seems to be telling the truth, but I need to be sure he is. I can hear the little Bunce screaming at me, but I can’t make out any words. My whole focus is on finding my nephew alive, even if that kills _me_.

“I don’t know. I don’t _fucking_ know.” The Chosen One says, once again, this time surer. And he is looking at me so certain, so open, that I believe him. So, I let him go.

And suddenly I am invaded by exhaustion. Suddenly, my whole body succumbs to all the sleepless nights I have been having since Basilton has been gone. Suddenly, I can’t find the strength in me to get up and keep looking. Suddenly, I am all out of options. I am all out of ideas on how to find him and rescue him from whatever it was that took him. Suddenly, I fall to the ground, and I can’t stop the tears from invading my face.

And before I know it I am being held by the person I was just now accusing of having caused this. And while the Chosen One holds me, I see his forearm. A forearm that shows, just like mine, two timers. And the tears that were running down my face are suddenly replaced by this maniac laughter because I can’t believe that Basilton is the Chosen One’s soulmate. And I can’t believe that he is still alive, after all this time. But the timers don’t lie, and my nephew still has a week left. And a week is more than I thought I had to find him.

“You are even crazier than he is.” The boy says, letting go of me. “What the hell are you laughing about.”

“One day I might tell you, Chosen One.” I reply, wiping my face with my sleeve. “I haven’t introduced myself properly, but these times don’t call for proper introductions. I’m sure you know who I am.”

“I am pretty sure you’re Baz’s crazy aunt.” He mumbles. “And I’m pretty sure, now, that he is missing and not out there planning my downfall. So, what are we going to do next?”

“What do you mean, _we_?” I ask, not believing my own ears.

“I am going to look for Baz with you.” He says.

“Simon…” I hear little Bunce say, but he doesn’t let her finish.

“Penny, if someone is going to kill Baz, that someone is going to be me. Now, I don’t know what happened to him, but I’m sure crazy lady here” he shoots a look at me “will explain to us.”

“I don’t have time to explain it all to you because my nephew is missing and about to die. So, long story short, he was kidnapped, and I can’t seem to find him. I thought you were behind it, you aren’t.” I tell him, getting ready to leave and continue my search, pretty sure that he doesn’t _actually_ intend on coming along. “And now I am going to leave and keep looking, so if you want to come with me, we’re going.”

The Chosen One stands up without a word, ready to follow me. I look at little Bunce surprised, and she sighs.

“I am not letting you go alone with her. I’m not sure she can be trusted. This could all be a plot to capture you and kill you.” She says, standing up too.

“I would find a way more creative way to kill him than this.” I respond, coldly. “But do come, little Bunce. Three heads will sure work better than one. And from what I have heard, yours works pretty neatly.”

“Compliments won’t get you my trust.” The girl replies, but I can see she is blushing.

“Well, let’s go then, kids. I’m pretty sure Basilton hasn’t got that much time left.” I am more than sure, though. I know he doesn’t. I look at the Chosen One’s arm. 7 days, 2 hours and 37 minutes. That’s all we have left.

I turn around and close the door to their room behind me, while Bunce and Snow start climbing down the stairs. From afar, I swear I could hear Natasha’s voice.

_My son. Where are you?_

I shake my head. I really am going nuts these days. Nevertheless, I reply.

“I am going to find him, Tasha. I promise.”

I hope she can hear me.

 

**_PENNY:_ **

****

I am currently sitting inside Fiona Pitch’s car, in the middle of the night, watching the city lights go by and having no idea where I am heading. I am already regretting letting Simon come with her, and even more so having followed them. However, how am I to know if Basilton is really missing, or if this is just a plan to destroy my best friend?

“You look a lot like him, you know?” Simon is telling Fiona, as she stares down the road and tries not to smile.

“You must mean he looks like me, Chosen One.” She replies, but her voice cracks a little. Her reaction to everything is the only thing that makes me believe that she might not be lying after all.

“Oh, stop with the ‘Chosen One’ nonsense.” He tells her. “I got a name you know?”

“I do know.” She says, “But the title happens to suit you.”

“It annoys me.”

“Then it suits me.” She smirks, and I swear I can see what Basilton will look like in 20 years.

“You even act like him. I am beginning to think that your family only really wants to annoy me and not kill me.” He scoffs. Fiona laughs, but quickly resumes her usual psychotic look. I look outside, once again. It seems that we are reaching London which would make sense. I think I overheard Basilton talk about her aunt’s flat in London before.

I’ve been trying to catch a glimpse of Fiona’s forearm the whole ride, but my view is blocked by the fucking car seat. Whenever she reaches the gear lever, I can see them for a second,  but it’s never enough to actually confirm what I think I saw in Simon’s room. 

“When was he kidnapped?” Simon asks, after a while. Through the rear-view mirror, I can see Fiona’s jaw tense.

“Three weeks ago.” She replies, and Simon gasps. “But he is not dead. Yet. I think they might have fed him.”

“How would you know he is not dead?” Simon asks, and I see Fiona shooting a quick glance at his forearm. At his timers, to be more precise. I really can’t be imagining things.

“Someday I might tell you.” She replies, and absentmindedly grabs at her own forearm. When her hand resumes its place at the steering wheel, that’s when I see it. The two timers, just like Simon has. Just like I thought I’d seen earlier tonight. Through the mirror Fiona catches me staring, and quickly pulls her sleeve down. I look back at her as if to tell her that I’m not going to say anything. Not yet. Not until I’m sure. Not until she can confirm my suspicions.

 

**_FIONA:_ **

****

I can hear the Chosen One snoring from my living room when little Bunce – or Penelope as she told me to call her – enters my room. I was already expecting her, but I still hoped that she had let it go. Cleary a stupidity on my part because, as Basilton has mentioned throughout the years, Penelope Bunce doesn’t let mysteries unresolved.

“In what way can I assist you, little Bunce?” I ask her, just to spite her, but she doesn’t even react. She straightforwardly asks me what she came here to ask.

“What’s the deal with the timers?”

“I see you waste no time.” I say. “And may I ask why you’re interested?” I know exactly why she is interested. She knows the Chosen One has two of them too, and she probably spent this whole time trying to figure out what they mean. I am just trying to buy myself some time to decide whether or not I should trust her with the truth. After all, the truth reveals not only that Basilton is Snow’s soulmate, but also that he is a vampire. And this girl knowing about that could definitely put him in danger. More than he is already in right now.

“You know why, Fiona.” She replies, fiercely. She definitely takes it after her own mother, courageous and witty. I am surprised she didn’t decipher the timer’s meaning earlier. But then again, until earlier tonight I thought I was the only person in the entire magickal world who had them.

“I am assuming this is about the Chosen One.”

“Yes, it is about Simon. And those bloody double timers that I thought were an only case. Which, apparently, they aren’t.” She says, pointing at my forearm. I sigh, and gesture for her to sit next to me. She complies, and I stretch my arm out for her to see. She takes a look at them slowly, her gaze lingering on the frozen timer. The one that froze almost 20 years ago.

“I always thought I was broken, when I was a child.” I started, watching out for her reaction. “As far as we know, no one has ever had two timers before.”

“I am aware. Believe me, I’ve done my fair share of research throughout the years.” She replies, looking at me. She seems impatient but doesn’t try to rush me, nonetheless.

“I bet you did, little Bunce.” I tell her, smiling. “And you probably didn’t find anything about me in your research because I’ve always hidden one of the timers. Make-up was a great Normal’s invention. Tasha – Basilton’s mother – was the only person who knew. Besides my parents, of course. And she was always as intrigued by it as you are.”

“It is an intriguing subject.” She agrees.

“I suppose.” I reply. “To me, it was more annoying than it was intriguing. It’s not too much fun being abnormal.”

“Simon would agree with you on that.” She tells me. “But what do the timers mean, after all?” She asks.

“They mean the exact same thing they do to everyone else.” I answer. “They count down the time until your soulmate dies.”

“But yet, you have two of them. One of which is already frozen, as Simon’s is.”

“Indeed.”

“And that means you have two soulmates?” She seems to be just crossing things out of an imaginary list in her head. As if she already knows what I’m trying to tell her without actually saying it.

“No, I just have one. So does the Chosen One.”

“So, your soulmate died, and yet, they aren’t dead.” She states.

“Correct.” I reply, and she smiles at me.

“I knew it.” She says. And hell, I see what Basilton meant when he said this girl was really smart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it! I hope you enjoyed this one, and I promise there will be more to read soon. (And I also promise Baz will show up soon, I bet you already miss him like I do)
> 
> Also, I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading and commenting and leaving me kudos. They truly make my days, you have no idea.
> 
> I hope you have an amazing day, lovely people!


	4. It will all make sense tomorrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, amazing people!
> 
> I know it hasn't even been 24 hours since the last chapter, but I finished the whole story last night and as I reward, I think it's about goddamn time I give you all some Baz time!
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> (Btw, the title comes from Jorja Smith's song Tomorrow!)

**_SIMON:_ **

 

We’re out of ideas. Fiona has covered half of the city in the past weeks, and we’ve covered almost the other half these past days, and there is still no sign of him. I’ve asked about him to so many people that I have lost count, and yet every clue always turns out to be a dead end.

I can sense both Penny and Fiona becoming more and more worried as the days go by, and they keep throwing glances at my forearms for some reason I don’t understand. Or else, for a reason I’m _trying_ not to understand. I have too much on my head right now to start worrying about the fact that my sworn enemy _might_ be my soulmate. But the soulmate timer on my arm – the one that isn’t already frozen – says that my soulmate has 3 days left to live, and Merlin, wouldn’t that be such an odd coincidence? Except that it’s probably not a coincidence and Baz is probably my fucking soulmate who happens to be almost fucking dead.

We’re looking at the massive map Fiona has hanging on the wall once again. Desperately trying to find some sort of calling to some random place because, honestly, hoping is all we can do by now.

“Tell me again how it went down?” Penny is telling Fiona, for the tenth time today.

“Basilton was supposed to meet me in London that day. He left by train and Malcolm saw him get in it. When I asked around, some people had seen him leave the station. He was supposed to come here, but he never arrived.”

“And yet, we’ve searched the entire London town, and he is nowhere to be seen.” I reply.

“What if they’re keeping him at Watford?” Fiona suggests.

“Trust me, I’ve looked for him in those first weeks. I was worried he might be hiding and plotting to kill me. I searched Watford through and through. He’s not there.” I say, and she sighs. I can see she is trying really hard not to cry in front of us, but I’ve heard her crying herself to sleep every single night we’ve been here.

“I honestly don’t know what to do.” She admits, after a while. “I have no idea why they would even take him. Or _who_ would even take him.”

I look up at the map.

“Where are you Baz? Where the hell did they hide you?” I mumble to myself. “Where the fuck are you? **Where are you?** ” No such spell goes like this, but my magick has been known for working in mysterious ways. When those last words leave my mouth full of magick, there’s one place on the map that lightens itself up. Both Penny and Fiona look at me with their jaws dropped and eyes wide opened.

“Can’t hurt to try, right?” I say, grabbing my coat to leave.

“Bloody hell, Chosen One.” I can hear Fiona Pitch say as we’re running down the stairs. “I am starting to like you way more than I thought I would.”

****

**_BAZ:_ **

 

I am pretty sure I am dead. That’s the only explanation for the blinding white light that just washed over me. I swear I can hear voices, but I can’t make out what anyone is saying. There is a strong blast near me, and I can’t help but think how incredibly _noisy_ the afterlife is.

Suddenly, I can feel someone’s burning hot skin on mine as a person who looks an awful lot like Simon Snow seems to be picking me up. I really am dead. There is no way Simon Snow would be here rescuing me.

“Fiona, Penny, I’ve got him. Let’s go!” I can hear him say, and nothing makes sense anymore. My whole body hurts as he runs with me in his arms. I haven’t moved in days. Weeks? I am not sure. I don’t know how long I was in there. I am not even sure if I’m not still in there. If I’m not dreaming this. I am probably delusional because I haven’t eaten any food since I’ve been here.

Simon slows down and tries to sit me down in someone’s car – Fiona’s probably –, but I’m not strong enough to maintain my body up.

“Fuck, I think he’s dead.” He whispers, trying to hold my head up.

“Simon, I’ve been dead for a long time.” I reply using all the strength I have in me to do so. My voice cracks halfway through because I haven’t spoken in a long time. Yet, he smiles at me a smile so bright I swear I could go blind right this instant. And then he sits down next to me, letting my head rest on his shoulder.

“You’re still a git even when you’re about to die.” He says, but I don’t sense any malice in his words. I don’t bother replying. Fiona turns around to look at me, visibly worried.

“Did they feed you?” She asks, and I don’t even think to lie. I’m too tired, too hungry and, to be honest, too confused about Simon Snow being here holding me up and letting me rest my head on his shoulder, to even come up with a lie.

“Only blood. No food.” I can feel Snow stiffen.

“You haven’t eaten in almost four weeks?” He asks, and I can smell his magick invading the car.

“Fuck, Fiona, drive. We have to get him something to eat.” I hear Bunce say, as Fiona stars the car.

“Has it been almost four weeks?” I ask, closing my eyes.

“Four weeks.” Snow scoffs. “Almost four fucking weeks they kept you inside a fucking coffin without any fucking food. No wonder you were almost dying.”

For a split second, I wonder if he found out. I wonder if he knows I was almost dead because his timer told him so. I wonder if that’s why he is here, holding me close, saving my life. But for the time being, I can’t seem to care.

I am alive. Simon Snow saved me. I don’t think there’s anything more I could ask for right now.

(Except for him.)

(But that would be too much to ask).

 

**_SIMON:_ **

****

Fiona stopped at a drive through to get something for Baz to eat. On the way there I kept throwing glances at my timers. Once again, my unfrozen timer was set to stop in about 75 years. I keep trying to stop my thoughts, but I really can’t. I mean, it really has to be him, hasn’t it? It would be impossible that two people in this world would have been about to die and were suddenly rescued at the _exact_ same time.

I look at Baz who is currently drooling on my shirt. Although he was able to sit straight after nearly inhaling five hamburgers, once he fell asleep his head found its way back to my shoulder.

I look out the window, trying to avoid Fiona who is desperately trying to catch my eye through the rear-view mirror. We just left Penny back at Watford, and Fiona wanted me to go too, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t leave him alone. Not after all that he has been through. Not after all that’s happened. And not after what I just found out about him. About _us_.

So here I am, in the car with Fiona Pitch, who apparently has grown to like me during these few days we spent together looking for Baz, and currently heading towards Baz’s house. Where his father – who hates my guts – is.

And I don’t even know exactly what I am expecting to happen. I don’t know if Baz will even care that we are soulmates, given that he absolutely despises me. And yet he is sleeping on my shoulder and drooling on my shirt, and when I picked him up from the coffin earlier today, I could swear he whispered my name.

I let my eyes wander until they rest on Fiona. She is mumbling the lyrics to some really grungy song that’s playing on the radio and, for the first time since we’ve met, she seems completely carefree. Her hands are wrapped tightly around the wheel as she speeds through the highway towards Baz’s mansion (I assume someone posh like him would live in a mansion). It’s when she lets one of her hands fall on her lap that I notice the timers. Plural.

“Fiona.” I say, unable to conceive my complete disbelief.

“What, Chosen One?” She asks, visibly worried. She probably thinks it’s about Baz.

“You have two timers.” I say, and I lift my arm to show her mine. Baz shifts slightly beside me, but he keeps on sleeping.

“Shit kid, you scared me. I thought something was wrong.” She says, smirking at me. It looks so much like Baz’s smirk that it’s almost creepy.

“Well, clearly something’s not right. I don’t know anyone else who has two timers.” I tell her, trying not to sound too eager.

“Well, Chosen One, we’re clearly two of the few people – if not actually the _only_ two – who happen to have vampires as soulmates.” She replies, calmly.

“Is that why?”

“Yes. My first timer stopped the day my boyfriend decided to cross over.” She tells me, and I can see sorrow invading her eyes.

“He _decided_?” Why would anyone _decide_ to be a vampire? It makes no fucking sense.”

“To him it did. He chose immortality – or so he thought – over me. But hey, the joke’s on him.” She lifts her arm for me to see her timer. It is set in almost 200 years. “He’s not really going to live forever. Just for a very long time.” I look at my own timer. It’s set in about 75 years, it makes no sense.

“Don’t worry Chosen One.” She says when she sees my worried look. “Some soulmate’s have such strong connections that they die within seconds of each other. They just can’t seem to survive without their other half. From the looks of it, that might be your case.” I look down blushing and my eyes land on Baz, still asleep on my shoulder.

I have no clue what is going to happen, and I have no idea what the hell this is. I don’t even know if he is not going to straight up call me crazy – or punch me – for telling him that we’re soulmates. But I am willing to try.

Because, _honestly_ , I like _this_ better than fighting.

 

**_BAZ:_ **

 

I wake up way too comfortable to still be inside that coffin. And too warm. And too well fed. I guess I wasn’t really dreaming earlier. I guess my aunt, Penelope Bunce and Simon fucking Snow really did save me from the numpties. I sigh in relieve as I let myself sink into my mattress – my little piece of heaven mattress – and try to fall asleep again.

I can hear Snow’s steady breathing coming from the couch at the foot of my bed, and I try to remember why the hell he is still here. There is no scenario in my head in which this makes sense. He found me, saved me and is now sleeping in my bedroom as if he was worried about me. In what world is that an accepted behaviour towards your enemy?

I open my eyes and look over to him. His arms are wrapped around his legs, and he has already thrown the covers off. I realise he must be really uncomfortable, given that the window is closed and he is always burning hot. There’s a ray of moonlight hitting his back, and I can see clearly the endless freckles and moles he has there, spread out just like constellations. Constellations I’ve played out in my mind _so many times_ throughout the years I already know by heart. Little spots I’ve dreamt of kissing so many times I’ve lost count. He mumbles something in his sleep, and I just watch him. It’s an incredibly creepy thing to do, I know – real Twilight creepy, which is almost amusing if you take the whole vampire thing into account – but I just can’t stop myself. This is the only time I get to let my mask fall. It’s the only time I get to look at him the way I always want to – like I love him. Like he is the love of my fucking life.

Or, at least, it _used to be_ the only time I could do it. After today, I don’t know anymore.  He fucking saved me, brought me home, and stayed with me. He let me rest my head on his shoulder and sleep leaning on him. And when, after dinner, we got up here to (finally) rest, he didn’t look at me as if he hated me. He just looked curious, and, also, a little bit like he had something to say. But I didn’t bother to ask him because I was endlessly tired and craving a soft surface to lay on.

So, I really don’t know. I don’t know what happened or where we stand. I don’t know if he was genuinely worried, or only trying to save me so that he could kill me for good later. I don’t know if he found out, or if someone told him, but Crowley, I need to know. I need to know what is happening.

Not now, though. Not in the middle of the night while he is sleeping so peacefully at the foot of my bed. I turn to my side and close my eyes. Although I’ve done nothing but sleep and think of Simon while I was locked inside that coffin, I am still exhausted.

However, when my stomach grumbles loudly, I am suddenly aware of how hungry I am. So, I get up and head to the kitchen, only stopping by the window to open it. I feel like Snow is about to combust if this room increases its temperature by just one degree.

I am already in the kitchen and looking around for something to devour when I realise that Snow followed me. He is standing by the door, as if he was unsure whether or not to come in, and he looks so hot like that, leaned on the door frame only in his – or rather mine – pyjama bottoms that I am the one about to combust right now.

He is looking at me again as if he is trying to tell me something – or ask me something, I can’t really be sure.

Whatever it is that is going on – why he saved, why he stayed with me, why he followed me to the kitchen in the middle of the night – I guess I am about to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter and Baz being back and safe and very confused. 
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who has been reading and following this story of mine, and thank you deeply for the ever lovely and sweet comments, and kudos! It means a lot to me.
> 
> I hope you have an awesome day, lovely people!


	5. Shut up, Kiss me, Hold me tight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New cheesy af chapter for you all, my lovelies!
> 
> Title comes from "Shut Up, Kiss Me" song by Angel Olsen!
> 
> Enjoy!

**_SIMON:_ **

 

“What are you eating?” I ask because that’s who I am as a person. I came here to talk to him about all of this, but the minute I see some food, that’s where my mind goes.

“Scones.” He replies with his mouth full. And this is probably the very first time in my entire existence that I have seen Baz be anything but the king of table manners. Even earlier today after starving for almost a month, he ate the hamburgers we got him like a goddamn king.

I come closer to him.

“Can I have some?” I ask, because, once again, that’s who I am as a person. And he is eating goddamn sour cherry scones. He moves the tray with the scones in my direction and gestures for me to sit down. I do and grab a scone. They taste just like Watford’s.

“How the hell are these scones so similar to the ones we got back at Watford?” I ask, and he shoots me a bored glance.

“They were my mother’s favourites. And cook Pritchard gave her the recipe.” He replies, seeming uninterested in this conversation. I really have more questions about the scones, but I sense it is not the right time to ask. So I try to work my way into the conversation I came here to have. Because I guess it has to be now, rather than later. Later I might lose the guts to have it.

I turn to him. I know I’ve stated countless times throughout the years how dead Baz looks. I mean, seriously, I don’t think I have ever seen someone else resembling a vampire so much as. Which makes some sort of sense, considering he actually _is_ a vampire. But even if he wasn’t, I assume he would still look a lot like one.

Yet, looking at him now, I can’t help but think that the way he usually looks seems pretty alive in comparison. He is paler than usual, and the bags under his eyes are darker than I’ve ever seen them. He has never been a big guy since football has always kept him in shape – I think I can finally admit to myself that he is hot. Like _crazy hot_ , with his slight muscular back and his damn shaped soccer calves. Right now, however, he is just plain skinny – bony even – which undoubtedly has something to do with the fact that he was kept without food for almost a month. He also has a slight limp, which he tried to conceive. But I can still see it on his face that he is in pain when he walks.

“So, how are you feeling?” I ask, and he shrugs.

“Have been better. I don’t know why you care.” He spits. I should have known it would go on like this. I mean, he hates me. I don’t know what I was thinking, staying here with him. Trying to work this whole soulmate’s thing out with my sworn enemy. But then again, why was he sleeping leaning on me before? And why do I almost swear I heard him sigh my name earlier in his sleep? And why hasn’t he thrown me out of his house yet?

“Well, I saved you, so I guess I might care a little.” I reply. I don’t know why I say it. Hell, _I_ don’t even know why I care. I just know that I do. And I realise that I’ve cared long before I even considered him as my soulmate. Long before I even allowed myself to admit that I cared.

“Why did you, though? It would have made your job easier if you had just let me die.” He states coldly.

“You could stop being a prick and just say thank you, you know?” I ask, trying to sound mad. But I’m not. Not really.

I mean, if it had been him saving me I’m pretty sure I’d be suspicious too. In fact, I think he actually did save me once – that time with the second chimaera on our fifth year – and I just accused him of trying to kill me again.

“Thank you for what?” He asks, cocking an eyebrow. I almost missed having him cocking an eyebrow at me. I guess I’m ready to admit that he looks quite hot doing so.

“For saving you. For letting you drool all over my shirt without complaining.” I reply. He looks at me in disbelief.

“I did no such thing.” He says, but I can see a hint of blush rushing to his cheeks.

“You kind of did.” I retort, looking at him before continuing. “I didn’t mind, though.”

 

**_BAZ:_ **

 

My mind shuts down momentarily when I hear Snow telling me he didn’t mind having me sleeping basically on top of him today in the car. For the first time in my life, I can’t seem to find a response to what he just said to me, so I just stand up and grab my plate before turning to him.

“Are you done with the scones? I’m kind of freezing down here.”

“Yeah, I’m done.” He replies, standing up too and following me out of the kitchen.

On the way back to my room we keep quiet. I can pretend I don’t say anything because I’m trying not to wake anybody up but, to be honest, I just have no idea what to say. I want to ask him what in the name of Merlin is he doing here, in my house, heading up to my room, in the middle of the fucking night. I mean, last time I checked we were still enemies and, yet, he isn’t behaving as such. Not in the closest. And I do want to know, but at the same time I sort of fear what he might reply. Because, in my head, he is here because he cares – and thinking of him caring in the slightest is seriously dangerous territory. I have been pining over this boy for years now, but I have never given myself permission to ever even think about him wanting me back. It was too impossible and too prone to be disastrous. And yet, right now… Right now, I don’t know. He is here. He is still here although Bunce isn’t, which means he decided to stay when she left to Watford. And now that we’re in my room again, he is staring at me with that face he makes when he is trying to find the words he wants to say. He wants to say something to me – to ask something to me? – and I honestly doubt it will be any sort of insult. This whole day seems so surreal I am still unsure if I was indeed rescued or if these are my latest delusions.

But it feels real. It feels _too real_. And his scent is filling the air inside my room – he closed the window before he left the room for some reason I can’t explain, considering how he is always complaining about it – and I can’t think straight. I think that’s why I speak. Because I’m intoxicated. And because I am in love with him.

“Why are you here, Snow?” It comes out softer than I intended it and I regret it almost instantly. He sees it as an invitation to sit by my side on my bed, although he seems unsure. And I know I should sneer at him, or make some sarcastic remark. I know I should shove him away, or pretend to be utterly shocked about what he just did. But I am too tired to pretend, so I let him.

“I just wanted to make sure that you were ok.” He shrugs.

“Since when do we care about each other’s wellbeing?” He shrugs again, turning his head to look out the window. When he looks back at me, he is smiling.

“To be honest, I don’t know. But I guess I do.” I feel my heart nearly stopping inside my chest. But I can’t let him get to me. I can’t let his words get to me. They’re just words, and he is still going to have to kill me one of these days.

“Well, you should snap out of it.” I scold. “It will make it harder when you eventually have to kill me.”

“You know I don’t really have to kill you, right?” He tilts his head to the side like a puppy. You really can’t blame me for falling for him, he is too damn adorable.

“If you don’t, I’ll just kill you, so I think that you should.” I am lying, of course. I could never kill him even if my life depended on it (which it kind of does). I wouldn’t live in a world in which Simon doesn’t exist.

“You don’t have to kill me either.” He states, still smiling. “We could just not kill each other. In fact, I’m pretty sure that we’re not going to.”

 

I think I had a dream about this exact moment once – a dream in which Simon would suggest that we just stopped fighting. Although that dream ended up with us making out, and I’m not seeing this conversation having that outcome. 

“And what exactly makes you think that?” I ask. And when he looks down at his timers, it is so sudden I almost miss it. I think I would have if it weren’t for the super vampire senses. When he looks at mine, I am suddenly sure he has figured it out. And I must admit I am impressed because I never thought someone as thick as Simon Snow would ever be able to. Figure this out, I mean.

“You know some soulmates have their timers set only a few seconds apart?” He asks me, and my throat is so dry that I am pretty sure I would be unable to speak. So, I just nod. “Well, you see, it’s funny. Because ours are set to the exact same time. And that moment is not anytime soon, so I’m assuming we’re not killing each other.”

“I don’t see your point, Snow.” I manage to say. Because despite this being the moment I have longed for my entire adolescent life, I can’t let him do this. He can’t want me. He deserves so much better than that.

“Yes, you do.” He declares, looking at me hurt.

“You can’t be suggesting that we’re soulmates.” I say, trying to make it sound like I’m mocking him. I fail.

“I am not suggesting it. I’m telling you that we are. That’s why I have the two timers. This one is from the day they turned you.” He says, pointing at the frozen timer in his forearm. “And this one is for the day you really die. The day we both do, apparently.” He concludes, pointing at my arm.

“So, Fiona told you.” I sigh. I guess I wasn’t dreaming when I thought I’d heard them having that conversation. He nods. “Well, then now you know.”

“Apparently so do you.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“How long have you known?” He asks. I can sense that he is hurt, but what did he expect me to do? Tell him ‘hey there, enemy roommate, do you know you are my soulmate?’ He’s thick, but he can’t expect _me_ to be that stupid.

“I’ve known it since the first day, Snow.” I reply. Because, right now, I see no point in lying anymore.

“And you never told me because you don’t want it to be me.” He states. He is trying to hide the tears in his eyes, and I really have to control myself not to reach out to clean them up. He has no idea how wrong he is.

“I didn’t, at first. And then I did. And now I do. And I always will. But you deserve better than that. You deserve better than me.” He cleans his eyes up with his sleeve and looks at me.

“You want it to be me?”

“I do. But _you_ shouldn’t want it to be me. I am a monster, Simon. I am a fucking soulless monster. And you should keep on hating me like you always have.”

“I never hated you.” He states. “At most I was annoyed by you, and jealous of you, but I didn’t hate you. And you can’t be soulless if you have a soulmate.”

 “I am a prick, Snow.” I say, looking at him. He looks so beautiful right now I swear I could kiss him. But he deserves better than that. He deserves better than me. “I am a plotting hateful vampire who until now you strongly disliked. How can you - ”

I am suddenly interrupted by his lips on mine and, for the third time tonight, my brain shuts off. And I know that I should – I know that I should for his sake – but I just can’t make myself push him away. Because Simon Snow is kissing me. He is kissing me like he wants me and I am so weak that I let him. When I wrap my arms around him to pull him closer, he just makes himself fall on top of me. We break apart for a second, and he puts an arm on each side of my body, lifting himself up slightly.

“You know.” He says, looking at me grinning. “I like this way better than fighting.”

This time, it’s me who kisses him first. Because I am weak. Because he is my soulmate.

Because I’m in love with him.

And he likes this better than fighting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there's only one left!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this, and if this chapter had too much fluff for you, then you should brace yourselves for the next chapter.  
> It's gonna be double fluff - and not just snowbaz fluff, I'll let you know that ;)
> 
> Thank you all so fucking much for reading, for leaving me kudos and a special thank you to everyone who takes the time to leave me the most lovely comments. I smile so much while reading a replying to them I momentarily forget how dead inside I am. 
> 
> You guys are amazing, really!
> 
> I hope you all have a wonderful and amazing day!


	6. I want you, you, just don't ask why, I want you, you, all the time, I want you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, lovelies!
> 
> Ok, so, I'm aware I posted the previous chapter earlier this morning (at least it was this morning for me) but I'm like really excited to share the ending with you.
> 
> So, I hope you enjoy it, and I hope you don't get upset because it's already over!
> 
> (Chapter title from the song: All the time, by The Kooks)

**_SIMON:_ **

 

We’ve stopped kissing a while ago, and now we’re just lying on his bed and looking at the ceiling. He hasn’t told me to go away yet, so I’m counting it as a victory. Our hands are just a few inches apart, but I can’t make myself move to touch him. Which is sort of ridiculous considering we just spent a lot of time making out. Like a _lot_ of time.

I can sense Baz moving beside me, turning on his side to look at me. I try my hardest not to blush because I know he can see very clearly in the dark, but I fail. Baz looking at me like this is just too much. He is all sharp features and high cheekbones but, for some reason, when he is looking at me like this, it is the softest I’ve ever seen him. He sighs, lying back down again, this time a few inches closer.

“What?” I ask, turning my head to look at him.

“I don’t understand this.” He replies, looking back.

“What?” He gestures between us.

“This. I thought you hated me.”

“Well, apparently I don’t.” I say, sticking my tongue out at him.

“So, what? You like me now?” He sounds like he is mocking me, but I’m beginning to see this is just his defence mechanism. Maybe that’s why he has always been like this.

“I guess there really is no other way of explaining these feelings I have when I look at your stupid face.” He tries to hide it, but I can see he is smiling. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Baz smile as much as these past few hours.

“Have you considered a brain parasite?” He asks, and I can’t help but laugh.

“Why are you like this?” I pull myself up, leaning back on my elbows. Baz rolls around once again to look at me.

“Like what? Charming?” He says, and I can see he is doing that soft face again.

“Like a git.” I declare. “Like a very sarcastic git.”

“What were you expecting? It’s who I am. I’m not going to turn soft just because, apparently, you have some sort of brain bug.” I laugh again, and, although I know I probably shouldn’t, I reach for this strand of hair that was invading his face and tuck it behind his ear. He closes his eyes when I do it, leaning into my touch.

“I think you’re just afraid to be soft with me.” I tell him, and he laughs, although it sounds sort of fake.

“What if I am?” He asks.

“Then you shouldn’t be. It’s not going to kill you.” I retort, lifting my arm up and showing him the timer. He smiles.

“Maybe I’m just going to spend the next 75 years not being soft.” I growl in frustration.

“Fine, don’t be soft. Just keep being a dick.” I scoff, lying back down. He moves towards me, intertwining our fingers together. I sigh.

“You can’t expect me to be someone I’m not.” He says. And I know he is right, but I just wanted him to let his guard down for a little bit.

“I just assumed things would be a little different.”

“Well, aren’t they? I mean, I don’t recall us holding hands before. Or speaking to each other for more than a few minutes without fighting. Or making out for half the night.” I laugh, I guess he is right. “Just because I’m not going to write you a poem about how in love with you I’ve been since fifth year – Just because I’m not here writing a song about how this is pretty much the best moment of my entire life – it doesn’t mean those things are not true, Simon.” I look at him. He is staring at the ceiling, and I can see how tense he is by the way his jaw looks. I lift myself up and kiss him on the lips. He softens immediately, melting into my mouth.

I don’t want him to write me a poem or sing me a song about how much he loves me (which I hadn’t realise that he did). That would be too unlike him. When I told him I wanted him to be soft, _this_ was the kind of soft I was hoping for.

And he called me Simon.

 

**_BAZ:_ **

 

“So, you’ve been in love with me since the fifth year.” Snow states, smiling mischievously. I hide my face in the crook of his neck.

“Will you just cut the shit? Stop mocking me.” I mumble.

“But I want to know.” He whines. “What was it? The undevoted attention? The constant following around?” I can’t help but laugh. He is a fucking nightmare. But a gorgeous nightmare.

“It might have had something to do with the stalking, I guess. I mean, you were _always_ there. You just didn’t follow me to the bathroom because that would have been weird.” I tell him, and he blushes.

“I admit it might have been a little too much, that year.” He says, after a while.

“A _little_ bit, Snow?”

“Fine, a lot. And you’ve called me Simon before.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Yes, you have.”

“I have no recollection of that moment.” I say, smirking. He nudges me playfully, and I laugh. He smiles at me when I do it. It must be weird to him, I guess. I don’t usually laugh that much in front of him.

“I think that was the year I started wondering how you could be so evil and, yet, so fucking attractive.”

“You thought I was attractive?” I ask, cocking an eyebrow.

“It’s kind of hard not to.” He replies. “I mean, look at you!” I can’t help but blush at this. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t notice – it’s almost never noticeable – but I truly am blushing.

“Well, I’m flattered, Snow.” I reply. “I think you’re attractive too.”

“I think I caught that during our make-out session earlier.” He says, wiggling his eyebrows.

I can’t believe he just said that. And I’m completely unsure if that should make me feel embarrassed or not. I mean, he doesn’t seem to mind, but I still didn’t want him to be aware of how _crazy_ he drives me so early in this thing we’re doing. Whatever it is.

“You’re such a dick.” I say, shoving him slightly.

“Interesting choice of words.” He mocks, winking his eye at me. And I lose it. I laugh so loudly I’m sure I would’ve woken up the entire house if it wasn’t as huge as it is. Thankfully, my room is too far away from the others for my family to hear it. But I had to laugh with the unlikeliness of this whole scene. I am in my room, at home, in my bed, lying next to Simon Snow who just made a joke about dicks. It’s just too much for me to handle.

I am definitely too far gone.

“I like this.” He says, after a while. “I really like this.” My heart skips approximately three beats, but I just shake my head.

“You must really have a brain parasite.” I say, trying to conceive my smile.

“I know. But I still want this.” He says, gesturing between us, just like I did before. 

“What is _this_?”

“ _This_.” He says, leaning towards me and kissing me softly. “And _this_.” He continues, laying his head down on my chest. I am pretty sure he can hear how fast my heart is beating, but I can’t find it in me to care. I am already too far gone. “And I want it. I want to be your boyfriend.”

I think my heart actually did stop for a while there. And I must have gotten so tense that, when I look at Snow, he is staring at me with a terrified expression. So I kiss him. Because, right now, I don’t really have an answer to him other than this. And because I don’t feel like any words I might have been able to say could convey the turmoil of emotions that I am feeling right now. And he kisses me back more intensely than ever before, so I think he gets it. I think he gets what I am trying to say. We’re soulmates after all. I think he is supposed to get it.

When we break apart a while later, he hides his face in the crook of my neck.

“Should I take that as a yes?” He asks. And I smile. I thought it was clear by now.

“Yes. You can have _this_. If you want.”

“I do.” He replies, smiling. “I really do.”

He does.

Aleister Crowley, I’m living a charmed life.

 

**_FIONA:_ **

 

I pick the boys up early in the morning. Daphne wanted Baz to stay for a while longer so she could spoil him a little after the month he just had, but he wouldn’t let her. He told her he was already way behind in all of his classes so he really had to go back to Watford. Malcolm agreed instantly, so she accepted it, although reluctant.

When I enter the kitchen that morning to find them eating breakfast, however, I am suddenly aware that school work was not _at all_ the reason why Basilton wanted to go back to school. The enormous bags behind both their eyes and the ridiculous smiles on both their faces tell me all I needed to know without me having to ask. I go around the table and put my arms around both of them.

“How are my favourite nephew and favourite nephew-in-law this lovely morning?” I ask them, and Baz shoots me a deathly glance. The one he learnt from me.

“Would you keep your goddamn voice down? They don’t know yet!” He whispers.

“They’ll have to know someday.” I reply, sitting down next to them.

“Yes, but it could be later. We’re still kind of figuring _this_ out.” He says, looking at the Chosen One and smiling.

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake. You’re soulmates. There is nothing to figure out! But don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. I do understand that you want some time to enjoy all this by yourselves.” I wink my eye at them, and the way they blush kind of tells me they like what I am implying. “You have to tell little Bunce, though. She will kill you if you don’t.”

“Of course we’re telling Penny. We’re just not telling Baz’s incredibly scary father yet.” The Chosen One explains, and I laugh. Malcolm is nowhere near as scary as everyone makes him out to be. He just has trouble showing emotion, but that’s about it.

“Alright, it’s all up to you. I’m just glad you finally figured this out. I was too tired of seeing Basilton pine over you and do nothing about it.”

“Shut up, Fiona.” He hisses, while the Chosen One just stares at me proudly.

“Shutting up, and heading down.” I say, getting up. “It’s time to move boys, I told Ebb I’d be there around noon.”

I stand by the door next to the Chosen One as I watch Basilton say goodbye to Malcolm, Daphne and his siblings. And although I have nothing against his stepmother, situations like these always make me think of Tasha. Of how different things would be if she was here. How different life would be.

“I’m ready.” Basilton states, shaking those thoughts away from me. There’s no point in thinking about what it would be like. It will _never_ be like that. Tasha’s gone. And although the Veil lifted earlier this month, she didn’t even come to visit. So she must be good. Wherever she is.

When we reach the car, Basilton halts by the front door.

“Basilton, I’m afraid you can’t sit there.” I tell him calmly.

“What do you mean, I can’t sit here? Is there something wrong with the seat?”

“Not with the seat, with you. You’ve lost front seat privileges. Front seat is for people who haven’t been kidnapped by _fucking_ numpties.” I say, and he looks at me betrayed. “Chosen One, you’re up.”

“Oh, I don’t - ” he starts saying, but I don’t let him finish.

“My car, my rules. Come on! Baz can’t sit in the back.”

My nephew throws me another death stare but eventually complies. When they cross each other, I can see Snow mouthing to him ‘I’m sorry’, and I roll my eyes. As if this was such a big deal.

When everyone has taken their well-deserved seats, I start the car.

“So, why are you going to visit Ebb? I wasn’t aware you knew her?” The Chosen One says once we’re already in the highway.

 “Yes, we went to Watford together.” I reply. “She’s my - ” I stop. I don’t really know what she is. I don’t really know how to explain it to them. “She’s my best friend.”

“Oh, so _you_ ’re the Fi she is always talking about!” He exclaims. I blush. I didn’t know she talked about _me_ to other people. “She really cares about you, you know?” He asks, and from the way that he is looking at me, I am almost sure he _knows_. And although Baz has told me countless times how thick the Chosen One is, I swear I don’t see it. He is way more perceptive than he lets on at first sight.

“I care about her too.” I tell him, and he smiles at me approvingly.

We spend the rest of the way in silence because, after a little while, both of them fall asleep. They must have stayed up all night talking. Or making out. Or both. I have this urge to wake them up and ask all the questions I want to ask, but I stop myself. They deserve some time to figure it all out before being bombarded with questions.

I keep my eyes out on the road, watching as the city turns to the countryside when we get close to Watford. It’s a lovely day to be here.

Once we reach the main gate, I wake the boys up. I leave the car parked at the entrance and go in with them. Little Bunce is already waiting for us inside, and we both exchange a look when Simon interwinds his fingers with Basilton’s.

“Behave boys.” I say as we part ways. “I’ll see you three on the next weekend when I come for tea with Ebb, ok?”

They all nod and turn to head inside as I start walking towards Ebb’s hut. I’ve been coming around a lot lately. We were apart for years after Nico crossed over. I couldn’t bear to look at her face because she reminded me so much of him. It was too painful for me. And I think it was too painful for her too.

But we ran into each other in town last year and, suddenly, Nico didn’t seem to matter anymore. Only my best friend mattered – the one I had given up on over someone who, despite being my soulmate, has never deserved me. And so, we decided to keep in touch. And lately, we’ve definitely been _keeping in touch_ , if you catch my drift.

Because you see, you’re supposed to only get one soulmate in your life. But there are really no rules to how many times you can fall in love. If there are, those rules don’t seem to apply to me.

When I get to her cabin, I knock softly on the door.

“Come on in, Fi.” She yells from inside, and I do. She’s in the kitchen finishing up some cupcakes. “You can come closer, you know?” She asks, “I don’t bite.” I smile, walking towards her and leaning over for a kiss.

“I would have to disagree with that.” I reply, winking. She laughs.

“Come on, at least let’s eat these first.” She says, picking up the tray of cupcakes that must have just come out of the oven. “They’re still warm.”

I follow her into the small living room and sit down on the dining table. She puts the tray in front of me before sitting down.

“How is Basilton?” She asks. She knows we got him back safely – I told her last night when I came to see her. We had nothing planned for the evening, but I needed to tell someone everything that had just happened. And she was the someone I wanted to tell everything to. She is always the someone I want to tell everything to.

“He’s actually good.” I say, not sure if I should mention the soulmate’s thing. We tend to avoid that sort of conversation, because we both know it will only make things awkward between us. “I think he is going to be fine.”

She reaches out to me, holding my hand, and I let her.

“I’m really happy to hear that. I hope you know it.” She whispers, and I know she means it. I squeeze her hand and look at our fingers intertwined. That’s when I notice _it_. Her timer and my timer – both set to the same moment. My timer – the one who wasn’t frozen yet – has always been set to a distant time in the future. A supernatural amount of time. At least, it used to, until now.

I look at her to see if she noticed too, and she is staring at me with her eyes with opened.

“When did this happen?” She asks.

“I haven’t noticed before.” I reply. And then there’s silence, and we just smile at each other for the longest time.  

And I guess I was wrong before. I guess you don’t really just get one soulmate, after all. Because, apparently, the rules to how many soulmates you get, they don’t apply if you’re Fiona Pitch.

And right now, there’s no one else I’d rather be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap!
> 
> Before anything, here's the tumblr post that inspired the brain parasite dialogue: http://petrareads.tumblr.com/post/160903048463/baz-waitso-you-like-me-back-simon-theres-no
> 
> Now for the goodbye part: 
> 
> I can't believe I let yet another story get out of hand (yes, as always, it was supposed to be 1 chapter long only). I hope you enjoyed my longest soulmate AU of all times, and I hope you enjoyed my Fi/Ebb ending. I ship them really hard, so I wanted to do something sweet for them. 
> 
> Thank you so, so much to everyone who accompanied this story, who always came back to read, and who always took the time to leave me the most lovely comments. You guys are amazing, and being a part of this fandom is such an honour. 
> 
> For those of you who are from countries (like me) which care a lot (a lot) about football (the real kind, not the American one), I wish you good luck for the world cup (if you're participating and care) (although I hope you lose to my country's team)
> 
> To finish with important things: HAPPY PRIDE MONTH EVERYONE. Considering this is snowbaz fanfiction, it feels like no one will get offended by this wish. To those of you who celebrate it, I hope you have fun and I hope you are safe wherever you are! I'm sending my love (and gayness through ma boys) to you all!
> 
> Much love to all of you. I hope we'll "see" each other soon in my next story (which could take long because I have no idea what I'm going to write about next), but if not, thank you and it was a pleasure to have you reading my story!
> 
> I hope you all have a wonderful day, a wonderful week, and a wonderful everything!


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